


lessons

by Vagabond



Series: search terms and related stories [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Date, Fluff, Found Family, Other, hand holding, idk y'all this is just soft, soft, the type that harasses you when you get back from a date with a BOY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: Bee doesn't get why Gabriel seems to have regressed in his comfort level around them until he asks them on a date.They say yes.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: search terms and related stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550539
Comments: 31
Kudos: 233
Collections: Ixnael’s Recommendations





	lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I just need to write soft Gabriel. This is fluff. It won't make a lot of sense unless you've also read [search terms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982581/chapters/49894655), but you can certainly try to read this on its own! Live your best life.

“Did you read the article?” Bee dropped into the seat across from Gabriel who nearly jumped out of his own chair, eyes wide. They’d purposely walked up from behind solely for his shocked reaction and smirked. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Gabriel replied tersely, which only got raised eyebrows from Bee. He could be so fussy sometimes. They’d been meeting consistently since just before the winter holidays and it was now spring. One would have thought Gabriel might have chilled out just a little by that point, but perhaps there was still a ways to go to pull the stick out of his arse. 

He’d made a lot of progress though, which is why his sudden squirming seemed uncharacteristic. It was like he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there and Bee’s mirth quickly devolved into concern. 

“Alright, Gabriel?” They asked, frowning. His eyes widened even more before he managed to school his features. 

“Yes, just fine. Thanks. Er,” he looked as if he wanted to say something else but promptly lost his nerve. “Intersectionality, right? Talking about identity?” 

Bee watched as his eyes dropped to the printed article in his hand and they sighed. Fine, if he wanted to play it that way…

They had a relatively fruitful conversation as Gabriel struggled with the concept of privilege. 

“How do you know if someone’s privileged? Not everyone runs around with their identities on their sleeve,” he said partway through. 

“You - that's not really how it works.” They tried to explain it further and he seemed to get it, but the longer they spoke the more squirrely he became. He fidgeted like they’d never seen him fidget before, as if there were ants in his trousers and he couldn’t wait to get out of the chair and shake them out. 

“Gabriel,” they finally snapped, their own anxiety flaring up and making _them_ nervous. “What is wrong with you today?” 

Gabriel’s face fell as he stilled, even though it seemed like a struggle to keep his knee from bouncing. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Nothing.” 

They narrowed their eyes but it wasn’t as if they could pry it out of him. So they decided to drop it. “I think that wraps us for today.” 

He looked up, panicked, then quickly back down at the ground. Then he said nothing. Bee growled. 

“What is _wrong_ with you today? Spit it out!” Had they done something? Was he upset? Why couldn’t he just come out and _say_ it? They bit back the urge to ask if they’d made him mad somehow. That was an old anxiety, one that had no place here. 

Gabriel finally looked at them. “Will you let me take you to dinner?” 

Bee remembered getting punched in the stomach once by Dagon while they were wrestling and it knocked the air out of them, much like Gabriel’s question had. They stared and watched as the hope on his face crumpled into something akin to disappointment. 

“You can say no,” he followed up quickly. “I don’t - I don’t want to end our lessons or anything. It was just a question. It doesn’t even _have_ to be a date, I’d still take you out to dinner as my friend -” 

“Shut up,” Bee hissed and Gabriel, to his credit, immediately did. For a moment anyway. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, just,” Bee took a breath and let it out slowly, then did it again. “You’re an idiot.” 

Gabriel glanced away and looked like he was about to apologize again. 

“Of course I’ll go to dinner with you.” Then, for the hell of it, “idiot.” 

Gabriel looked startled, then his face slowly broke out into a grin. He could be so damn handsome sometimes, Bee thought, when he wanted to be. When he let himself be. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really. I’m free Saturday night.” Bee watched as he pulled out his phone, likely putting it in his calendar. 

“What time? Late afternoon, maybe?” Gabriel glanced up. 

“Whenever,” Bee shrugged, not picky. Honestly they were a bit surprised Gabriel was interested in a date at all. Not that they hadn’t thought about it with some frequency, or lamented to Dagon some nights about how stupidly endearing Gabriel could be. But of course they didn’t want _him_ to know that. 

“Five, then? Early dinner and perhaps a walk afterward?” 

“Very courtly of you. A stroll through the garden?” Bee grinned and Gabriel mirrored it reflexively, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Oh, he was sensitive about this. Bee softened their grin. “That sounds good, Gabe.” 

The use of his shortened name seemed to soothe him. Despite his initial reluctance, Bee seemed to be the only one who got away with calling him Gabe. Perhaps that should have been a sign. 

“I’ll come pick you up at your apartment then?” 

“Sure.” They stood up from the chair. “I’ll look forward to it.” 

His smile turned a bit shy as he stood and looked almost like he wanted to hug them, but didn’t. Instead he shoved his phone and his hands into his pockets. “See you then.” 

“Right.” 

There was an awkward pause before Gabriel, blushing, turned and left. Bee walked in the opposite direction even though that wasn’t where they needed to go. _Idiots_. 

**

“He _what_!” Dagon exclaimed, abandoning the show she had been watching in order to face the back of the couch and drape herself over it. She stared at Bee, eyes alight with amusement. “I wondered if he would. That boy has been making eyes at you for months.” 

“He has _not_ ,” Bee retorted as they brought the sandwich they’d made over to the couch and dropped onto it. Dagon shifted to sit on her knees, still on the cushion. 

“He has,” Dagon replied easily. “But that’s not the point. He finally asked you out! And you said yes, of course.” 

“Of course,” Bee mocked, rolling their eyes. “He seemed so damn earnest, I couldn’t say no.” 

“Sure, right, that’s why.” Dagon had a sly smile on her face and Bee scowled and took a begrudging bite of their sandwich. Dagon stole the other half. They knew she would. 

“It isn’t that big of a deal,” Bee said after a few moments of thoughtful chewing. “It is just dinner.” 

“The fact you feel you have to defend it tells me it _is_ a big deal. You like him!”

“He’s an idiot.” Bee took an aggressive bite of their sandwich. 

“And you like idiots,” Dagon pointed out. 

“Apparently. I hang out with you all the time,” Bee groused and Dagon grinned and reached out to whack their knee. 

“You’re a jerk.” 

“Mmhm,” Bee replied with a full mouth, eyebrows raised as they swallowed. “I sure am.” 

“Where’s he taking you?” Dagon finally sat back on the other end of the couch, leaning against the arm with her feet on the middle cushion. 

“Don’t know. He’s the one planning the date.” Bee shrugged. They didn’t really care to plan these sorts of things anyway. 

“Do you want to take my car? I don’t think he has one.” 

“You alright if I snog him in it?” Bee asked with a smirk. It was Dagon’s turn to roll her eyes. 

“As if he would,” Dagon replied. “Do you think he’s ever snogged anyone in his life?” 

“Must have,” Bee said after a moment, frowning. “Right? Hasn’t everyone at this point?” 

“Mr. Bible Boy?” Dagon reminded them. “He probably leaves room for the holy spirit.” 

Bee groaned. “Stop. The more religious they are, the freakier I bet.” 

“Not Gabriel,” Dagon insisted. “There’s no way. Anyway, car is yours even if you do manage to snog him in it.” 

Bee rolled their eyes but were quietly grateful. “Thanks. We’ll try not to mess it up too much.” 

**

When Saturday came, Bee checked their outfit in the mirror. They weren’t the type to dress up by any means, but they’d given it their best shot this time. They wore warm black leggings, a loose fitting black shirt with a sloping collar, and a red and black plaid long-sleeved over shirt. They pulled a beanie over their short black hair and considered it as good as it would get. 

Bee walked into the living room and Dagon whistled. 

“Looking good, Bee.” 

Bee shot her a look. 

“I’m serious!” Dagon insisted, smiling. “You outclass him.” 

They grabbed their wallet out of a bowl on the counter, sliding it into the chest pocket of their shirt. Their keys followed. 

“You could take a purse,” Dagon pointed out. 

“Could.” 

Dagon melted back into the couch with a groan. “Instead you’re going to have a bulge on your chest.” 

Bee scowled. “Maybe I’ll make him carry it. And next time I’ll try to find leggings with fucking pockets.” 

“Good luck with that.” 

Their banter was interrupted by a knock on the door. Bee shot Dagon a nervous look, butterflies fluttering in their belly even though they’d never admit it. Dagon’s smile shifted into something soft and genuine as she motioned to the door. 

Bee answered it. Standing just outside was Gabriel, as expected. He was dressed in a light grey sweater and slacks with a warm jacket, his hair neat, face clean shaven. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers that he immediately thrust forward. 

“For you,” he said, and then cleared his throat. Bee glanced at the flowers and then up at his face before they took them. 

“Come on, hang out inside for a tic while I find some water to put these in.” Bee slipped into the kitchen and dug through the cupboard, all too aware that they did not own a single vase. Instead, they pulled out a plastic pitcher and filled it with water, setting the flowers in it. They’d figure out another solution when there was more time. 

“Hi Gabriel,” they heard Dagon say. 

“Good evening.” 

“Make sure to have them back before curfew,” Dagon snickered. “Don’t want to tarnish their honor.” 

“No honor to be found here,” Bee insisted as they returned to Gabriel’s side and then bent down to grab their boots by the door, shoving their feet into them. “Right, Gabe?” 

He gave them a look with his stupidly pretty eyes. “You’re very honorable.” 

Bee huffed. “Shut up and come on. Dagon is letting us borrow her car.” 

“Oh?” Gabriel sounded surprised. “Thank you, Dagon.” 

“No problem.” Dagon grinned at them from over the back of the couch. “Just try not to make a mess of it.” 

Before Gabriel could question the comment, Bee grabbed his arm and physically dragged him out of the apartment. 

“Have fun!” Dagon called after them as the door shut. 

Bee led Gabriel out toward the parking lot. 

“I didn’t realize Dagon had a car.” 

“Yeah, ends up being more of a community car. She’s let Crowley use it a few times, sometimes Hastur and Ligur when they’ve got something off campus. S’nice.” Bee shrugged, pulling the key out of their chest pocket and swinging it on their finger. “She’s an old thing, but a good one.” 

“That’s hardly a nice thing to say about Dagon.” 

Bee looked sharply at Gabriel who glanced at them from the corner of his eye and smiled. 

“You made a joke,” they said. “And a _clever_ joke at that.” 

“I can be clever,” Gabriel shot back. Bee snorted. 

“Wasn’t sure you had it in you.” 

“Well now you know.” Gabriel fell silent, hands in his pockets. They arrived at Dagon’s car and Bee slid into the driver’s seat. Gabriel got into the passenger side. 

“Where are we headed?” Bee asked, sliding the key into the ignition and, with a bit of fussing, the car started. 

He gave them the address without the name and Bee typed it into their phone’s GPS before they started off. Gabriel insisted on a car park (he kept saying _parking garage_ and Bee gave him grief for it) but Bee was a Londoner, and as such found street parking and pulled in. Gabriel huffed and Bee grinned at him. 

“Unlike you I know how to drive in a city, Gabe.” 

“Yeah well, nicely done.” 

They got out of the car and began walking down the sidewalk, Bee following Gabriel’s lead. 

“This place doesn’t take reservations but I don’t think we’ll need them,” he said. “If you don’t like it we can find somewhere else to go.” 

Strange he thought they wouldn’t like it. “It’ll be fine. Food is food.” 

“Right.” Gabriel shot them a nervous look and Bee realized just how nervous he must be for it to show on his face like that. It was just a date but Bee couldn’t help but wonder how many he’d been on. They’d been on a lot, some good, some not-so-good, some stupid, but it brought a certain ease to this situation. 

Gabriel’s nerves threatened that. They reached out and touched his arm. “Hey,” Bee pulled him to a stop and Gabriel turned to them, frowning. “Ease up, yeah? This is supposed to be fun.” 

He looked at the ground, at his feet, then back up at Bee and nodded. “Sorry, of course.”

With a sigh, Bee looped their arm with Gabriel’s. “Lead the way.” 

It was a hole-in-the-wall Gabriel brought them too, which surprised them. It had a cheesy name - _Heaven’s Gate_ \- but once inside the atmosphere was calm and on the edge of grungy in the best way. The tables were mismatched and eclectic, but not in a way that seemed on purpose. There were enough matching pieces that it looked almost like layered sediment, telling a story of the restaurant’s stylistic development as the years went on and things wore down or were broken. 

“Is it alright?” Gabriel asked beside them and Bee looked at him with a grin. 

“This place is excellent.” 

Gabriel beamed and led them to a high-top table. A waitress sauntered over with menus. 

“Can I get you anything to drink besides water?” 

“Cream soda for me, and whatever they would like,” Gabriel motioned to Bee. 

“Cream soda?” Bee asked. “American of you.” 

“This place is one of the few I’ve found with decent cream soda. Reminds me of home.” 

“I’ll take one too,” Bee turned to the waitress with a smile. 

“Right, coming right up.” The waitress left and Bee turned back to Gabriel who smiled. 

They ordered food to share, Gabriel nearly knocking his drink over with unsteady hands as he reached for chips. Bee held up the conversation, all too aware that Gabriel seemed to be holding back. Their sessions were usually filled with banter and good conversation. This was Gabriel back when they first started talking, nervous about crossing lines. 

It was obnoxious. 

“Have you been on many dates?” Bee asked and Gabriel’s eyes widened, an attractive flush coming to his cheeks. He hesitated and Bee knew the answer. “Get the cheque,” they said. “And then I’m going to take you somewhere.” 

Gabriel’s face fell and Bee let him wallow in it. It was easier to show than explain. Dutifully, Gabriel called for the cheque since they had eaten through their food and paid like a gentleman. Bee didn’t mind, they’d get the next date assuming they didn’t traumatize him. 

Sliding down from the chair they looped their arm through his again and led him out of the restaurant. They passed by the street they’d parked down and Gabriel glanced at it, then at Bee. 

“I think we parked the car down there?” He sounded uncertain. 

“We did. We’re not going to the car.” 

“Oh.” He was quiet after that and Bee let him be. They wound their way along the streets until they made it to a small green running along the Thames. It was late enough in the evening that most park goers had turned in as the sun began to set, but there were a few joggers faithfully making their way down a path. Bee led him beyond a bench to the middle of a slightly damp field. 

“Sit,” they said, motioning to the grass and releasing his arm. They dropped down cross-legged onto the ground. It was wet. They didn’t mind, despite it beginning to soak through their leggings. Gabriel, however, made a dismayed sound. 

“You’re going to get wet,” he said. 

“Yup.” Bee smiled up at him. “Sit.” 

He frowned at the grass but obeyed, grimacing as the seat of his pants was dampened by the grass. “There was a perfectly good bench.” 

“You’re stiff. You need to let go. A wet arse is a good way to start. Puts us on even ground.” Bee shifted closer so they could feel the heat radiating off of him. He could be so damn warm. 

“Puts us on wet ground,” he grumbled and Bee snorted. They sat quietly, eyes on the sky as the sun descended and clouds rolled along after it. 

“Gabriel,” Bee continued to look at the sky, “if you didn’t have all of those doubts and all of that guilt floating around your head, what would you do? Tonight? With me?” 

“What?” 

Bee gave him a look from the corner of their eye. “If you weren’t so busy second guessing everything tonight, what would you want to do?” 

Gabriel’s cheeks were red, probably from the cold but Bee liked to think they had something to do with it. 

“It is stupid,” he said. 

“No stupid answers here, champ,” Bee replied. “Not tonight, not right now.” 

Gabriel bent his legs so he could lean his arms on his knees. “I want to hold your hand.” 

“Well that’s an easy one.” Bee held out their hand in the space between them. Gabriel, furrowed brow and all, looked at it. Bee wiggled their fingers. 

Gabriel reached out and took their hand and Bee laced their fingers together. His palm was warm, if a bit sweaty, and Bee pulled their joined hands over to rest on their leg. Gabriel’s thumb brushed against their knuckles. 

“I haven’t,” Gabriel said out of the blue. When Bee shot him a questioning look he continued. “Been on many dates. Any dates, really. I...we moved around a lot. Even when we were in the States we moved around. Then Aziraphale came to live with us and we up and moved to England and I don’t think I ever really fit in.” 

“Your friends in the Bible Squad seem to like you,” Bee pointed out. 

“They do,” Gabriel sounded hesitant. “But it isn’t…I don’t know.” He shrugged and squeezed Bee’s hand. Bee squeezed it back and then shifted closer to him, pressing into his side. He tensed, then took a breath and let it out slowly as he leaned toward them in return. 

Bee put their head on his shoulder. It was easy. Most folks they’d dated of late would have had their tongue down Bee’s throat by now. This sort of innocent touching - cuddling, if they dared to label it at such - was refreshing. 

“Well you have friends now. And someone to take on dates.” 

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel laughed. “I didn’t think I was going to get a second date. I messed this one up well enough.” 

“You didn’t,” Bee tilted their head to try and catch his eye but Gabriel wasn’t looking at them. “I had a wonderful time, I just want to see more of this,” they raised their joined hands. “More of _you_ , not who you think you should be.” 

“It might take a while,” Gabriel admitted. 

“That’s fine. I can wait.” For a little while, anyway, because despite his foibles and his strange sense of separation Gabriel was _trying_. And he was cute. That could take a man far in Bee’s books. 

“Thank you.” He nearly whispered it. 

“No thanks necessary, Gabriel. Believe it or not I enjoy spending time with you.” 

Gabriel huffed and pressed his cheek to the top of Bee’s head. They sat quietly for a while longer until Bee shivered and Gabriel stood and helped them up. “Come on, you’re cold.” 

“You don’t know cold,” Bee insisted, but was grateful when Gabriel shrugged off his coat and put it around their shoulders. It was warm, like him, and they pulled it around them. “Thanks.” 

“Mmhm.” Gabriel guided them out of the park with a gentle hand against their lower back. Bee didn’t mind, but eventually grabbed that hand and laced their fingers together again. 

Gabriel blushed and ducked his head shyly. Bee grinned. “Are you going to blush every time I hold your hand?” 

“I’m not blushing,” he grumbled. 

“You are and it is adorable.” 

“I’m going to take my coat back.” 

“No, this belongs to me now.” Bee squeezed his hand. “I _might_ give it back to you if you walk me to my door.” 

They didn’t miss the fond look on Gabriel’s face. “Of course,” he said quietly. 

The drive back to campus was peaceful. Bee held Gabriel’s coat hostage, enjoying the bulky warmth of it on the walk back to their apartment. Gabriel, as promised, walked them to the door. 

“Well,” Bee declared. “I’d say that was a good evening, even if you’ve got grass stains on your arse.” 

“And whose fault is that?” Gabriel asked. “You’re the one who wanted to sit in the wet grass.” 

“It worked out.” Bee stood there, still wearing his jacket. They shrugged out of it and offered it back to him. He took it and pulled it on, leaving them standing there. 

In a flash he leaned forward and pecked them on the cheek. It was the quickest brush of lips, not even worthy of being called a kiss, but it was progress. Bee smiled. 

“Goodnight, Gabriel.” 

“Goodnight, Bee,” Gabriel replied with a soft smile of his own. “Sleep well.” 

Bee unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaving Gabriel in the hallway. 

“You’re besotted,” Hastur remarked from the couch and Bee scowled when they realized Dagon, Hastur, Ligur, Crowley, and Aziraphale were all sprawled across various parts of the living room. 

“They’re in looooooove,” Dagon teased from somewhere Bee couldn’t quite see. 

“Yer a bunch of five year olds,” Ligur grumbled. “Shuttap and watch the film.” 

Crowley glanced over the back of the couch with a little smile. Aziraphale didn’t move, his head of pale curls resting on Crowley’s shoulder, likely dozing. Bee kicked off their boots and stomped over, vaulting over the couch and dropping into the last remaining space, pressed up near Aziraphale who snorted awake and made a confused noise. 

“Hush, angel,” Crowley murmured, running his fingers through his hair. “It is just Bee.” 

“How was Gabriel?” Aziraphale asked sleepily, shifting away from Crowley to lean against Bee instead, nestling his cheek against their shoulder. 

“Good,” Bee replied just for Aziraphale, resting their cheek against the top of his head. “He was a perfect gentleman.” 

“Seriously,” Ligur growled. “I want to watch the _film_.” 

Hastur leaned over and kissed his frown. Dagon snickered. Bee settled comfortably against Aziraphale as he seemed to drift back to sleep. Their thoughts wandered to Gabriel, wondering if he might like to join them for a movie night like this. 

Perhaps that would be date number two. 

They grinned into Aziraphale’s curls and turned their eyes to the movie. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/)!


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